


The Girl in the Woods

by poguesmaybank



Category: The Devil All the Time (2020)
Genre: 1960s, Eventual Smut, F/M, Romance, Teens in love, high school romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poguesmaybank/pseuds/poguesmaybank
Summary: Allison Hartford's world is turned upside one random Friday afternoon. She wants nothing more than to get her life back to the way it was prior to showing up at the Russell's front door. However, after spending quality time with a certain boy, she finds not all the changes in her life are bad.
Relationships: Arvin Russell/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	1. The Boy from Coal Creek

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins in 1964, so there is period typical restraints and sexism.

Allison didn’t immediately realize something was wrong as she climbed into her mother’s red mustang that spring afternoon. Her first clue was the smell of cigarette smoke that hit her nose, followed by the speed at which her mother left the school parking lot. Looking over at her mother, Allison felt panic well up in her throat. Her mother was crying, a cigarette held between her fingers. Mascara stained her cheeks, her dark red lipstick smeared, hair in a poorly done bun on top of her head. In the fifteen, almost sixteen years she had known her, Allison had never seen her cry unless it seemed appropriate for the current situation. Nor had she ever seen her smoke. Joseph, Allison’s father, didn’t approve of it, at least not for women. Elizabeth Hartford is not a woman to wear her heart on her sleeve, she, like all of her husband’s family, kept her heart in an ornate box, hidden from the world. Allison would soon find out, Elizabeth had been crying herself to sleep more often than not lately. 

“Mama?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. Her breathing picked up, her eyes darting around the car. Her gaze locked on the two suitcases in the back seat. She struggled to get the next sentence out. “What’s going on? Is something wrong? Is everyone okay? Is it Chris?”

Allison could feel her heart pounding in her ears when Elizabeth didn’t answer right away, instead she took another drag of her cigarette. One glance towards her daughter’s terrified face, however, and she attempted to compose herself. After decades of practice, it should have been easy to put on a calming smile and upbeat tone, she didn’t though. Elizabeth wiped away her tears and gave her a sad smile, before reaching over to take Allison’s hands in one of hers. Allison’s mouth felt dry as they turned left towards Coal Creek instead of right towards their home. 

“Everyone is okay. Your brother is fine,” she assured her, squeezing her hands lightly. She glanced over at her as they reached a stop sign, pausing to brush a strand of blonde hair out of her child’s face, then continued down the road. “Your father and I are taking a little break, so you and I are going to stay with a family friend for a while.”

“What?” Allison pulled away from her mother, turning in her seat to face the older woman. The confusion overtaking her worried expression. “How are y’all taking a break? Daddy isn’t even home. He’s not due back from New York until Monday.”

“He came back early,” Elizabeth told her. Her tears were dry now and mascara lined her rosy cheeks. Allison shook her head slightly, pulling her bottom lip in between her lips, trying to wrap her head around her mother’s appearance.

“Good! If Daddy is in town, we can go home and talk to him. I’m sure whatever happened he has a proper explanation,” Allison said, fingers tugging nervously at the end of cheer skirt. Elizabeth let out a bitter, bark-like chuckle.

“I’ve had enough of his excuses in the past twenty years to last a lifetime,” she snapped and Allison recoiled slightly in her seat. Her mother’s face softened slightly and she reached for her again, “I’m sorry, honey. I know this is difficult, but Richard and I need some time apart.”

Allison opened her mouth to argue, but shut it quickly as her mother pulled into the gravel driveway of a rundown shack. The young blonde began shaking her head, her long ponytail swinging rapidly behind her. Elizabeth let out a dry laugh at the mixed look of shock and horror on her daughter’s face. Allison had pictured the home of one of their country club friends or even the nice hotel across the street from the golf course. She turned to her mother looking for some kind of sign that this was some cruel joke. Elizabeth just kissed the top of her head and turned to get out of the car, grabbing one of the suitcases from the backseat. For a moment all Allison could do was watch in horror and disbelief as her mother with her hair a mess, smudged lipstick and mascara stained cheeks walked up to the door of the shack. Finally coming to her senses, she grabbed the other suitcase and rushed after her mother, trying and failing to avoid getting mud on her white cheer shoes. She made it onto the porch as an elderly woman opened the door.

“Lizzie Dixon!” The woman exclaimed, pulling the burnette to her. Allison grimaced at the awkward looking hug. The suitcase prevented Elizabeth from properly hugging the older woman back. Pulling away, she called back into the house, “Arvin! Come get these suitcases!”

“Thank you, so much for this, Emma,” Elizabeth said, running a hand through her dark hair. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Emma just smiled and turned to Allison. Elizabeth took the moment to lean against the side of the house, resting her bloodshot eyes. Allison was struck then at how old and tired and broken her mother looked in that moment, despite only being thirty-seven. Elizabeth worked extremely hard to never look a day twenty-eight, and until that moment, Allison would have thought anyone who said otherwise needed their eyesight checked. She felt nauseous, whether from concern or panic she wasn’t sure. 

“And you must be Ally Jo! Your grandmother and I had been friends since we were little girls,” Emma moved forward, taking the suitcase from her setting it on the ground before pulling her into a hug. Allison, though shocked, hugged her back, trademark Hartford smile gracing her lips. The woman moved back, not quite letting her go and looked her up and down. Allison gulped slightly, struggling to keep her expression happy as she saw a slightly familiar face come through the open doorway. Running into someone from school was the only thing that could make matters worse, yet here was a boy clearly around her age. Arvin lit a cigarette, leaning against the side of the porch. “Look at you! You must be what? 15? 16, now? About the same age as my Lenora. And a cheerleader? How exciting! Arvin, do you know Ally Jo? You two are about the same age.”

Emma turned towards the boy, wrapping her arm around Allison. Both Allison and Arvin look confused at the name. Though the boy looked more dumbfounded than anything, eyes flicking between his grandmother and Allison, then over their shoulders to her mother, who was still leaning back against the wall.  _ Ally Jo _ , Allison’s not sure she’s ever heard a name she hated more. She cleared her throat, feeling slightly choked on the uncomfortable silence that was settling between them. She smiled sweetly at the woman next to her. 

“I tend to go by Allison. I don’t believe Arvin,” she said, the name coming out almost as a question, as if she wasn’t sure she had said his name correctly, “and I have had the pleasure of meeting.” She moved towards him, seizing the opportunity to remove herself from Emma’s grasp, and extended her hand, “I’m Allison Hartford, and this is my mother Elizabeth.”

Arvin’s jaw clenched slightly as he stared at her outstretched hand. He reluctantly reached out and shook it. His eyes were harsh, matching both as his grip and tone, “Pleasure.” 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Arvin,” Allison said in a sickly sweet voice. Though she didn’t mean it any more than he did, her pleasant expression never wavered. Emma scolded him for his rude tone. “It’s fine, Mrs…?”

“Russell, but you can call me Emma, dear. Arvin, put that bag in Lenora’s room and the other in yours,” she told him, before turning back to Elizabeth. She smiled at the younger woman and ushered her inside, “Now, let’s get you inside and all cleaned up, then we’ll have a cup of tea,” Emma paused looking over the woman's disheveled appearance, “or perhaps some whiskey.” 

Allison watched as the women entered the house debating if she should follow. She didn’t want to leave her mother alone in the unfamiliar house, but she also wanted to be alone so she could digest the events of the past hour. Arvin made the decision for her. He put out his cigarette, moving past Allison without so much as a look and picked up her mother’s suitcase. He turned to her, pointed at the suitcase by her legs and said, “Lenora’s room is the second door on the right.” He disappeared into the house before she was able to respond, letting the door slam behind him. 

“Rude,” she mumbled to herself, debating if she should leave the case there and let him catch hell for it later. She didn’t think Emma would be happy about him leaving her suitcase on the porch. However, she just huffed and grabbed the case herself. Given how her day had turned so terrible so quickly, she didn’t wish to add to the drama. She carried the case into Lenora’s room, though if it wasn’t for the twin sized bed, she would have thought it was a closet. Allison laid the suitcase on the bed, deciding to change out of her cheer uniform before going to find her mother. 

Elizabeth was sitting at the kitchen table drinking whiskey with an older man that Allison didn’t recognize. Her face was now free of make up and her hair, though still in a messy bun, was brushed and controlled. She gave him a quick polite smile, forgoing an introduction in order to tend to her mother. Elizabeth smiled at her daughter, patting the seat next to her.

“Are you feeling better?” Allison asked, sitting down cautiously. She brushed a stray piece of hair out of her mother’s face, watching carefully for her reaction. Elizabeth is an extremely hard woman to read, but over the past fifteen years she’d like to believe that she had become somewhat of an expert. 

“Yes, sweetheart,” Elizabeth said, pressing a kiss to her temple. She turned her attention to the man across the table. “This is Emma’s brother Erskell. Esrskell, this is my daughter Allison.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Allison said, extending a hand across the table to the older man. The Hartford smile instinctually found its way to her lips. Allison kept her seat by her mother, the three of them making mindless small talk until a girl, she assumed was Lenora, appeared in the doorway to inform them dinner would be ready soon and offered to show her where she could wash up. Allison felt her stomach drop at the thought of how awkward the dinner will be, but followed her anyway. 

The walk to the bathroom was short, but that didn’t stop Lenora from rambling the whole way. Nervous energy flowed from the brunette, but Allison wasn’t paying any attention. Too much was happening. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Everything was too loud: the sizzling of the frying pan, the ticking of the hallway clock, her own breathing, Lenora. She darted into the bathroom, shutting the door harder than she intended, interrupting Lenora mid-sentence. Pressing her back to the door, she took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. Her throat hurt and her eyes stung. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, nails digging into her palm, trying to stop the tears from falling. The tears came anyway. She let them fall for a moment before looking up, pushing her head against the door with a small thud. She took only last deep breath and blinked the tears out of her eyes. Pushing herself off the door to the sink, she took in her reflection. She didn’t look much better than mother had looked. Her mascara was smudged and her hair was falling down. She did her best to fix it, before washing up and heading out the door. 


	2. The Girl in the Red Mustang

Arvin had been sitting in his room, attempting to read a book for school when he heard the sound of tires on gravel. Grateful for any distraction from the task at hand, he looked out the window to see a red mustang pulling up in the driveway. He leaned forward attempting to get a better look at the people inside. The woman in the driver's seat looked as if she had been put through the ringer, her hair a mess and make-up all over her face. The second figure, however, was the one that held his eye. Seated in the passenger seat of the red mustang, with what could only be described as a look of horror on her face, was  _ Allison Hartford _ . Arvin couldn’t believe his eyes as the richest and most popular girl in Kanawha County High School rushed towards his porch. About thirty seconds later Emma called him out the porch. 

Curiosity getting the better of him, he moved fairly quickly to the front door. He couldn’t think of any reason why Allison Hartford would show up to his home carrying a suitcase. It felt like something out of  _ The Twilight Zone _ , like at any moment an eerie and uncanny feeling would overtake him. He lit a cigarette to calm himself, and leaned against the porch railing, watching as his grandma raved over the young blonde. She introduced her as Ally Jo, causing Arvin’s jaw to drop a little. Unable to reconcile the image Emma had painted of the sweet, thoughtful Ally Jo over the years, with the callus and calculating Allison Hartford who ran the halls of his school, he could do little more than stare. 

He was shaken from his stupor by Allison introducing herself to him, as if they hadn’t spent the entire year sitting next to each other in history. Quite frankly it pissed him off, the way she was able to forget people she doesn’t find relevant to her social status. From there he could help but think of all the times she did nothing when her meathead boyfriend and the other brainless barbies on the cheer squad teased and tormented Lenora. His jaw clenched as she extended a hand, but he managed to shake it to please Emma, not that it worked seeing as she still scolded him for being rude. He decided then to spend the rest of the afternoon in his room, doing his best to avoid the blonde and her mother. 

“Aren’t you excited?” Lenora asked him, as they both attempted to get some school work done. She had been buzzing with happiness since she had found out that Allison would be staying with them for a while. Emma had sent her to spend time with him in order to allow Elizabeth to relax without everyone hovering. Though Allison was doing enough hovering for all of them. Whenever he passed the dining room, she had her trademark pageant smile on her lips, nodding and responding politely to whatever Emma was saying, but her eyes, worried and scared, continuously flickered towards her mother. He almost regretted the harsh way he had spoken to her earlier. When he didn’t answer, Lenora tried again, “Arvin, the three of us could become such good friends!”

“Don’t talk that shit, Lenora,” he muttered, not wanting her to get her hopes up. Though it was clear on her face she’d already lost herself in multiple scenarios where they were friends. “Just cause she’s here, don’t change who she is. She’s still the stuck-up bitch who spends all her time on Tommy Maston arm or with that fucking cheer squad.”

“Arvin!” Lenora scolded him, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Don’t talk about her like that! She seems lovely right now. Even Grandma seems to like her!” He sighed.

“Hell, Grandma likes everybody and you're too damn forgiving,” he ruffled her hair, smiling as she tried to swat his hand away. He held her eyes for a moment, his face serious. “Look, all I’m saying is people like her and people like us don’t mix. It just ain’t the way the world works.”

“Grandma has us sharing my room. We’ll get to do all kinds of fun things, like braid each other’s hair and stay up late talking,” Lenora said, before an almost sly smile made its way onto her face, as he turned back to his homework. “Besides, I thought you’d be having her around here.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” He glanced over at her again. Lenora grinned widely at him.

“Because of the crush you have on her,” she said, giggled as his face turned red. Arvin’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to find a response. 

“What the hell makes you say something as dumb as that?” he choked out, stumbling a little over his words. Lenora’s giggles had subsided, but she was still grinning at him.

“You, Hobart, and Daryl get loud when you drink and I heard you say that Allison was too good to waste her time with a boy like Tommy Matson,” she informed him. Arvin cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. He vaguely remembered that night with his two closest friends, his only friends if he was being honest. He didn’t remember how they got on the topic of the cheer squad. He did, however, remember what he said about Allison, and it wasn’t nearly as nice as Lenora seemed to think. 

“That’s not,” Arvin began, pausing as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. The room felt too hot. He struggled to find the word to explain that he didn’t think Allison was  _ too good _ for Tommy, if fact he thinks they deserve each. He was too ashamed to tell her that his intoxicated self had said something along the lines of ‘an ass like Allison’s was too good to waste with a son of bitch like Tommy.’ Finally, he just said, “I just meant she was too damn attractive to be fucking around with someone as dumb and ugly as Matson. I still think she and that asshole deserve each other.”

“Sure, Arvin,” Lenora responded, clearly not believing him. She closed her homework folder and picked up one of the romance novels she’d gotten from the library. He scoffed at her, going back to his homework. He wanted to finish it before Emma called them to what he knew would be an awkward dinner. 

He managed, but barely. He had just gotten up to go have a quick smoke, when she knocked on the door. She wanted Lenora to show Allison where to wash up and then get the table ready. Arvin needed to pull in a couple more chairs from the shed. Once that was done he decided he still had time for a pre-dinner cigarette. Moving swiftly back to the porch, he ran directly into the blonde he’d been avoiding all afternoon. They both stumbled back, awkwardness seeping into the space between them. She held his gaze for a moment, eyes rimmed red as if she’d been crying. She looked back to the bathroom she’d just vacated, suddenly avoiding his eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. She nodded in response. Neither of them moved despite the uncomfortable silence that settled between them. They were jerked from the moment by his Uncle Erskell entering the hall from the back door. Allison jumped slightly, glancing behind her at the older man. 

“I suppose we should get to dinner,” Allison said, no trace of sadness that he saw in her eyes came through in her voice. He nodded this time, stepping to the side to allow her to lead the way into the dining room. The awkwardness Arvin felt in the hallway didn’t dissipate as he sat down next to Lenora. Allison didn’t look back towards him, focused again on her mother. Emma smiled at him before they bowed their heads to say grace. Afterwards the table was quiet except for the clinic of spoons against bowls.

“Lizzie,” Emma broke the silence, all eyes in the room moving in her direction. “In your last letter you said that Chris was finishing up his first year at University. All the way up in New Jersey, I believe?”

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, eyes sweeping across the table. A relaxed and confident smile over taking her face. Watching the dark haired woman, Arvin could see the similarities between her and her daughter. He’d shared enough classes with the young blonde to recognize the way she could effortlessly control a group. Apart from the same deep green eyes, the two didn’t share many physical attributes, but the way Elizabeth captured a room reminded him of her daughter. He glanced across from him. The mention of her older brother had brought the first genuine smile to Allison’s face since she had entered his home.

“Yes, Princeton to be exact. Christopher has been doing wonderfully. He passed his first semester with ease. My husband,” Elizabeth paused, brushed a stray hair away from her face. Arvin didn’t miss the way Allison's smile faded at the mention of her father. Their appearance at his door must have something to do with him. She placed her spoon down and pushed the bowl away as her mother continued speaking. “Joseph claims he told him that he’s met a lovely young lady. Isabella, I believe?”

“Isadora,” Allison offered in a small voice. Elizabeth flashed her a grateful smile.

“Isadora, yes, of course,” Elizabeth continued. “We're all going to meet in New York once his finals are over so he can introduce us to her. Joseph has a small apartment there for when he has to stay in the city for work.” Arvin would have bet his bottom dollar that Joseph’s  _ small  _ apartment was bigger than his house. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Emma said. “How’d they meet?”

“She’s the sister to one of his fraternity brothers,” Elizabeth answered, before changing the subject away from her family. “And your family, Emma? How have you all been these past few weeks?” 

“We’ve been good, gettin by,” Emma stated, continuing the small talk. 

Arvin stopped listening about then focusing more on the awkwardness settling on his end of the table. Erskell wasn’t chatting, focusing instead on his soup not bothered at all by the lack of noise from the two teens next to him. Allison appeared to have given up on eating, though her bowl still looked full. She was listening to the small talk, a fake smile across her face though it seemed to be more difficult to force each time her father was mentioned. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until he felt Lenora elbow him gently. He glanced her way only to be met with a large grin, her eyes flicking teasingly between him and the blonde. Thankfully, Allison was too caught up in her own head to notice.

“Shut up,” he whispered, low enough only Lenora could hear. He felt face warm up as she merely grinned wider. He turned back to his meal, hoping that if he finished it quick enough, he could escape to the porch. His run in with Allison had prevented his pre-dinner cigarette and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t craving a smoke. Emptying his bowl, he asked to be excused before slipping off to the porch, grateful for the opportunity to be away from Allison and Elizabeth Hartford.


	3. The Boy in the Hallway

“So you’ll be staying with us for a while?” Lenora asked, excitement clear in her voice as the two carried the dinner dishes to the sink. Allison merely shrugged as she followed her into the kitchen. She had no more information on her situation than Lenora. Elizabeth had avoided the topic of Joseph and their separation all afternoon, even during the brief moments they were alone. The other girl clearly wasn’t ready to let the conversation die. “We’ve never had guests come stay. At least not like this.”

“Like this?” Allison asked, defensively. “What do you mean ‘like this’?” Lenora shuffled a little awkwardly as they put the bowls down. Allison had a pretty good idea of what she meant, but she wanted to be sure of the narrative. She had to go to school again on Monday and face her peers, she needed to know what they might hear. If she knew the rumors, she might be able to combat them. 

“I just mean out of the blue, with no warning or explanation,” Lenora explained softly. She turned on the water avoiding the blonde’s searching eyes. Allison sighed, accepting Lenora’s answer. She could tell just by looking at her that she didn’t have it in her to be cruel and sadistic. Allison doubted that Lenora would tell anyone if she asked her not to. Clean up went quickly, Lenora washing, chattering about the romance novels she’d been reading and Allison drying, doing her best to follow the ramblings.

The boy, Arvin, had yet to come in from the porch, when they made their way back to Lenora’s room to get ready for bed. Allison rummaged through the bag her mother had packed her. She easily found her sleep shorts, hair brush, toothbrush and array of nice skirts and blouses, none of which she could sleep in. 

“Lenora? Do you have any old shirts?” she asked, as the brunette pulled a horrendous looking long gown over her head. “Preferably soft and thin?”

“No,” Lenora shook her head before smiling, “but I have an extra gown you could borrow! We could match!” Allison offered her a smile, glad she didn’t catch the brief look of horror that flashed across her face.

“Oh, well, I’d love to Lenora, truly I would, but,” Allison hesitated, searching for a reason to reject the offer. Reaching out, she thumbed the edge of the long sleeved gown. “The gown is long sleeved and this fabric is thick. I’m just worried I’ll get too hot and won’t be able to sleep.”

“Oh, I understand,” Lenora replied, a little crestfallen. Allison nodded, doing her best to appear equally disappointed. As if something clicked, Lenora perked up, an almost mischievous smile falling across her face. “Arvin has some work shirts you could sleep in. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Before Allison had a chance to shake her head and explain that she was absolutely sure that he would mind, Lenora was out the door, explaining everything to Emma and Elizabeth. Allison caught her mother’s eye hoping she’d help her out of the situation, but she merely shrugged slightly and took a sip of her tea.

“We can go grab a shirt from the house tomorrow. I’m sure his shirt will be fine for one night,” Elizabeth said, eyes flicking briefly to Lenora’s gown before settling back on her daughter. “Unless you can think of another option?”

“Oh, Arvin won’t mind one bit,” Emma told her, getting up from her chair. “You wait right here, I’ll go grab you one from his room.”

“That would be great. Thank you,” Allison responded. As Emma slipped from the room, Allison shot her mother a look over Lenora’s shoulder. Elizabeth smiled in response, turning her attention to Lenora instead.

“Your gown is very unique, Lenora. Where did you get?” Elizabeth asked, scanning the flowery material. Lenora smiled brightly, clearly proud of the product.

“I made it! Grandma got me the materials last year,” she explained.

“That’s wonderful. When I was little, probably no more than eight, your grandmother made me a nightgown similar to that one for my birthday. It had little blue flowers and lovely lace trim,” Elizabeth told her. Allison raised an eyebrow struggling to picture a young Elizabeth in a long nightgown. Thinking about it, she doesn’t recall her mother ever sharing childhood memories at all. Everything she knew about her mother began when she became Elizabeth Hartford. 

“Here you are, honey,” Emma said, coming back and handing Allison an old shirt. The shirt had once been white, Allison was sure of it, but time and wear had faded it to a dull gray color. Allison thanked her once more, before saying goodnight. Lenora was at her heels as she made her way to the bedroom.

“Do you want the wall side or the outside?” Lenora asked, shutting the door behind her. Allison stopped undoing the buttons on her blouse, looking over at the small bed. It hadn’t occurred to her that she and Lenora would be sharing the twin size bed. 

“The outside,” She didn’t want to be stuck against the wall in the middle of the night unable to get out. Lenora seemed happy enough with the decision, picking up the previous conversation about her romance novels. Allison listened to the best of her ability, avoiding Arvin’s shirt for a long as possible. She found she actually enjoyed time she was spending with the older girl and her tales of star crossed lovers and unexpected romances. Before long they settled down, and Allison finished unbuttoning her blouse and pulled the old shirt over her head. Lenora had been right; it fit exactly like what she’d wanted. 

“How does it fit?” Lenora asked, the mischievous smile returning to her face. Allison raised an eyebrow at her and fiddled with a tear at the bottom of the shirt. The shirt had a faint, yet distracting, musty smell of cigarettes, motor oil, and sweat that no amount of hand washing could get rid of. The new washing machine her parents had just had installed could probably have gotten rid of it, but Allison didn’t think it was necessary. The smell was different to the floral soap used on her clothes and the overbearing cologne Tommy wore, but she wouldn’t say it was bad. She wasn’t, however, about to tell that to Lenora.

“Fine,” she replied, offering no more details despite the disappointed look on Lenora’s face. She turned off the light and climbed into the bed. She tried and failed to keep some distance between her and Lenora, the narrow bed making it impossible. It wasn’t long before the girl next to her was snoring. The snores combined with the heat from Lenora made it impossible for Allison to sleep. Quietly, she slipped from the bed intending to find solace on the porch in the cool night air. She never made it that far, stopping when she heard her mother's voice. From the dark hallway, she could see her and Emma sitting at the table, a bottle of whiskey between them. Stepping back so they couldn’t see her, she listened.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Elizabeth said, in a defeated tone Allison had never heard before, “things haven’t been right for years. It started going downhill, when he came back from the war.” Allison turned around. She should go back to the room, her mother wouldn’t want her to hear this conversation. She leaned back against the hallway, sliding down to a sitting position. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she hugged them to her chest, and continued listening to the voices behind her.

“Plenty of boys went across that ocean and never really came back,” Emma responded. “Look at my Willard, I prayed every damn day that he’d return to me safe and sound. I was so happy, so relieved when he came home, but,” She stopped then and Allison waited for her to continue, but her mother spoke instead.

“Willard used to give me such hell we were kids. Never let anyone else pick on me though,” Allison could hear the smile in her voice, the fondness she held for this Willard was evident. “I can see him in that boy of his. Something about him reminds me of Willard.”

“I see it too,” Emma agreed. There was a pause and the clinking of ice in glass signalling someone was taking a drink. “So, what are you thinking in regards to that no good husband of yours?” 

Allison was distracted by the sound of the back door opening. Arvin entered the hallway clearly attempting not to wake anyone in the house. Allison panicked, not wanting him to walk through the kitchen. If he did the women would stop talking and retreat to their rooms. Pushing herself to her feet, she clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the surprised yelp that escaped him. He clearly hadn’t seen her sitting there. The talking in the kitchen stopped. Allison put a finger to her lips, before slowly removing her hand from him.

“Arvin?” Emma called from the kitchen. “Is that you?”

Allison looked at him wide eyed, shaking her head. She was close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath and make out the annoyance on his face despite the dim lighting. She expected he to tell her to fuck off and answer his grandmother. But a beat passed, then another and the women in the other room began speaking again. Allison felt her shoulders relax, sinking back into a sitting position, legs stretched out in front of her. Arvin leaned down and raised an eyebrow. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he whispered. Allison pressed her head back against the wall, not sure how to answer him. Arvin straightened up and moved towards the archway to the kitchen. Allison grabbed his hand, halting his progress. 

“Wait! Come back,” she hissed. Much to her surprise, he did. She let go of him and continued, “I’m eavesdropping. My mother won’t tell me what is going on but she might tell your grandma. So far they’ve just talked about a man named Willard.”

“Willard?” Arvin asked. She nodded, heart racing, terrified that he was going to decide to interrupt them. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She let out a breath, expecting him to sneak back out the screen door he’d come through. She was not expecting him to move to sit next her, head turned to listen to the women in the kitchen. 

“-happy when Christopher and Allison were little,” Elizabeth said. “Joseph used to paint. Art was his passion. A long time ago, before the war. We used to go dancing and he’d take me to this lovely little restaurant in the city.”

“I remember, your mama used to bring you letters round and read them. You were quite smitten. Willard used to get in such a mood. He couldn’t believe you'd done run off and married some fancy business man you’d just met,” Emma added, “I don’t think he understood how you were able to know so quickly that he was it for you. But then he met Charlotte on his way home. Didn’t even know her name, but still swore up and down she was the love of his life.”

The women shared a laugh. Arvin shifted beside her, screwing the top off a bottle of whiskey she hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He took a swig, a solemn look on his face, staring straight ahead. Without glancing in her direction, he offered her the open bottle. She took it and wiped the opening with the end of her shirt. The whiskey was cheap, burning the whole way down. She had to bury her face in the sleep shirt in order to keep coughing. She felt him take the whiskey back and heard him take another drink. 

“Is that my shirt?” He whispered. She looked up and nodded, not quite ready to speak. 

“I knew he was having affairs,” Elizabeth’s voice floated between them. Allison felt her face get hot, unsure if she wanted a stranger to hear her mother’s confession. She reached for the bottle. Arvin hesitated, eyes scanning her face before handing her the bottle. She wiped it again. It still burned but this time she was prepared. “I just was able to ignore it, because I never had to see it.”

“Have you drank whiskey before?” He asked, voice low. Allison nodded, rolling her eyes at his skeptical look. 

“Nothing that cheap,” she told him. She tugged on the end of her shirt, feeling as if she owed him an explanation.“Mama forgot to pack my sleep shirt so Emma offered me one of yours.”

Arvin looked her over, and she was suddenly very aware of just how much of her legs were revealed in this outfit. She cleared her throat, causing his eyes, glazed slightly from the whiskey, to snap back up to hers. The faint light from the kitchen offered just enough of a glow for her to make out the blush on his face. Handing the bottle back, she hugged her knees to her chest again.

“So you finally going to tell me what pushed you to the edge and brought you to my door looking like you’d been through hell?” Emma asked, as someone in the kitchen poured another drink. “Or you gonna make me wait until the bottle’s gone to build up the courage.” Allison took the bottle back and repeated her earlier actions.

“There’s not much to tell. I heard from his secretary that he was back in Coal Creek. I never call and check you on him, you know? Maybe that’s why we’ve grown so far apart. But I knew he’d seen Christopher yesterday,” Elizabeth told her. She was crying, Allison could hear it in her voice. She took another sip from the bottle. She and Arvin continued to pass it between them as the women spoke. “I just wanted an update. Christopher doesn’t write nearly as much as I’d like. He and Allison have their own lives now. I know Christopher is grown, but-”

“But he’s still your baby,” Emma’s voice cut in, “I was the same with Willard and I’m sure I’ll be the same when Arvin leaves.”

“His secretary told me he’d gotten a flight in from the city and he was meeting with the managers at the mine. I didn’t think much of it, I had to be at the church hall most of the morning. We’re having a silent auction and a dinner tomorrow to raise money to fix the roof. I have to be there by two tomorrow to help with the finishing touches. You should join me. I have an extra ticket,” Elizabeth rambled, voice shaky and panicked.

“Lizzie,” Emma spoke softly. Elizabeth didn’t seem to hear her.

“When was the last time you got dressed up for a nice meal, Emma? It’ll be roasted chicken. There’ll be wine. I have a lovely pearl necklace you can borrow.”

“Elizabeth,” Emma cut her off, before speaking in a comforting voice. “He came home, but you were at the church. What else happened?” Elizabeth let out a deep breath and was silent for a moment. 

The whiskey had worn down her impulse control and Allison felt the urge to peek around the corner into the room. She could see her mother was still crying, fanning herself with her hands. Her mother opened and closed as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t. Allison moved back out of the doorway and attempted to steady her breathing. The sight of her mother making her own eyes fill with tears. She grabbed the bottle from Arvin and took a big swig, not bothering to wipe it this time. She leaned her head back and shut her eyes tightly, doing her best to keep the tears from falling. She could feel Arvin’s eyes on her and hoped it was dark enough that he couldn’t see her face. 

“You remember the Reynold’s girl? Hannah. She went to school with Willard and I,” Elizabeth asked her voice calmer, as Allison felt the first of her tears make their way down her cheeks. “She’s a Gardner now. A couple of years ago, Joseph and I decided to hire someone as a housekeeper of sorts. I’d been so busy with church functions and charity events for Joseph’s work and we had too teenages who couldn't clean to save their lives. They still can’t. It was a pain packing for Allison today. Her room always looks as if a tornado’s torn through it. Anyway, Hannah applied. Her husband had been laid off from his job in the valley and they had four children including a newborn to think about. We’d been looking for someone with more availability, but I didn’t see any harm. Fuck, Emma, she’d been my friend. I just-”

Elizabeth stopped speaking and Allison could hear small sobs filling the room. She was no longer fighting her own tears, just letting them fall. She wanted to leave, to unhear everything she’d heard, to go back to ten hours ago when she was sitting on the bleachers with her friends, watching Tommy and his team during conditioning and she was unaware that any of this was happening. She was about to stand, when Emma took pity on her mother changing the subject.

“You always wanted to see the best in people ever since you were a little girl. I remember when you were eight and the Palmer boy stole your bike. You weren’t even mad, said he wouldn’t have taken it if he really didn’t need it,” Emma said. Elizabeth laughed at the memory, the sound causing Allison to smile. She relaxed back against the wall, reaching out of the bottle.

“Willard still broke the boy’s nose and brought the bike back to my porch,” Elizabeth commented. Arvin let out a small laugh, taking back the bottle.

“You both manage to hightail it out of here in different directions, yet here we are almost a decade later and you both got children attending the same school you could wait to leave,” Emma said.

“We should get to bed soon,” Elizabeth said and Allison heard the sound of chairs scraping the linoleum. She stood up quickly. Arvin opened and closed the back door louder than the last time, prompting Emma to call out for him again. He responded as Allison slipped back into Lenora’s room. The whiskey helped her sleep despite the snoring brunette next to her.


	4. The Girl with Bags Under Her Eyes

Arvin was disturbed from his slumber by noise from the kitchen. Getting up from the couch, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He leaned against the doorway watching as the blonde moved around the kitchen clearly looking for something. The girl looked nothing like the Allison Hartford he’d grown accustomed to seeing at school, she always so polished and put together. Rummaging through his kitchen, however she was a bit of a mess and if he was honest with himself, he kind of liked it. Her blonde hair was a ruffled mess, his t-shirt was hanging crooked and wrinkled, almost overtaking her pink sleep shorts. Here she appeared much more like the Ally Jo his grandmother had often described. He liked the name Ally, finding it fit her much better in moments like this when her guard was down and her emotions were on display. He almost didn’t want to let her know that he was there, not wanting to flip whatever switch that made her _Allison Hartford_ this early in the morning. Though if he didn’t stop her soon, she’d wake the whole house. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked, causing her to spin around, her hand clutching her chest. She let out a shaky breath. 

“Christ, Russell, couldn’t you have knocked or something?” she shook her head at him, running a hand through her already messy hair. “I’m looking for the kettle. I need coffee.” He looked at her for a moment, studying the light circles under her eyes and slight furrow in her brow. He felt that the slight imperfections were making her prettier, more real. He nodded at her.

“You look like shit,” he told her, crossing the room to get the kettle from the cabinet. She wouldn’t have been able to reach it herself. She glared at him, folding her arms across her chest. 

“Lenora _snores_ ,” she snapped, “and despite the heat, sleeps as close to me as physically possible.” He tried to be quiet, but couldn’t help laughing at the irritation on her face. 

“Yeah, she tends to kick all the covers to the floor too,” he informed her in a low voice, trying not to wake anyone else and passed her the kettle. “When I first moved here, Lenora’s room was used for storage and crafting by Grandma, so we had both been sharing my room until it was cleared out. I had a pallet on the other side of the room and I was struggling to sleep, so I honestly don’t understand you’ve been holding up in that room.” 

“You don’t have to whisper. Mama took Emma and Lenora with her to the house to grab some more stuff, like my sleep clothes,” Ally said, tugging lightly on the borrowed t-shirt she was wearing. Biting her lip, a habit he found very distracting, her eyebrows furrowed as she cast a look over the kettle and coffee press on the counter in front of them. 

“You didn’t go with them?” he asked. Ally shook her head and nodded to a piece of paper on the table. He glanced it over, apparently they had left while she was still asleep. She filled the kettle with water. Amused, he watched her fumble her way through the process. Coffee making was clearly something she’d seen rather than done. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Ally glared at him, though it held no real fire. She appeared too exhausted to hold anything more than mild annoyance. “I’ve seen it done plenty of times. I’ve just never done it myself.”

“Clearly,” he mumbled, taking the press from her before she ruined it. He sat it back on the counter to him and lit up his morning cigarette. Leaning back against the table, he raised an eyebrow as Ally pushed herself onto the countertop next to it and leaned her head against the side of the fridge, eyes flickering closed. Emma would’ve skinned their hides had she caught him or Lenora sitting on her counters. He’d begun to think she’d actually fallen asleep like that when she spoke in a soft sleepy tone.

“Hannah makes the coffee when she makes breakfast,” she paused as a large yawn escaped her lips. “Mama is a dreadful cook. She tries, but somehow manages to burn everything. So breakfast Monday through Saturday and dinner Monday through Friday is part of her job. Well, was her job, I doubt Mama will keep her on after this.”

Arvin flicked his cigarette over the ashtray, but didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Holding the cigarette between his lips, he moved back to the counter to ready the press. Ally straightened up next to him, eyes opening. She hadn’t seemed so close before. His face felt hot and his mouth felt dry as he shifted nervously. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her studying his face and wanted nothing more than to take the materials to the table and continue his work with his back to her. She leaned forward and his pulsed quickened. To his surprise, she reached out and plucked the cigarette from between his lips.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked, placing it between her lips and taking a small drag before he had a chance to respond. She exhaled almost immediately, none of the smoke entering her throat and lungs. His jaw dropped a little as he watched her crinkle her nose at it before repeating the action. The sight of her wasting another drag of his cigarette caused him to regain his composure.

“Yes,” he snapped, moving to take it out of her hand. She merely laughed and moved it away from his grasp. She placed a hand pressed lightly to his chest to keep him away. He could have easily knocked her hand away and retrieved the stolen item. They both knew it. But to do that would put him very close to her, too close for comfort in his opinion. She raised an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to do it, to knock her hand and step into her personal space to reclaim his cigarette. He leaned back, putting distance between his chest and the heat of her hand. He didn’t know her well enough to take that bait and the last thing he needed was another reason to fight with her candyass boyfriend. He could still feel her hand even after he turned back to the counter. He fixed himself a glass of water, hoping to combat the dryness in his throat. She gave him a victorious grin, before examining the cigarette. 

“My father hates it when women smoke. He says it is a nasty and unladylike habit,” she informed him. She took another drag, before handing it back to him. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

He flicked the end over the sink and took a proper drag. 

“That’s because,” he told her, pausing to take another drag, holding it a second longer than usual to make a point. Exhaling he finished his sentence, “you’re not doing it right.”

The kettle sounded and he removed it from the heat to allow it to cool. Repeating his earlier mistake, he let the cigarette dangle from his lips as use both hands to run the outside of the press under warm water. Allison took it from him again. She, again, took a drag without a proper inhale.

“How am I doing it wrong? I’m doing the same thing you did,” she questioned, putting the cigarette to her lips again. She was about to take another drag, when Arvin snatched it from her. “Hey!”

“Will you stop doing that? You’re wasting it,” he snapped. He flicked the end off into the sink and put it back to his lips. Adding the almost boiling water to the press, he kept a wary eye on Allison in case she went for his smoke again. He took one last drag of the cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. He lit another one, exhaling as he explained, “You’re not properly inhaling it. You’re just holding the smoke in your mouth.”

“So, what? I need to inhale twice?” she asked. He chucked and shook his head, offering the new cigarette to her. 

“When you inhale, don’t stop the smoke. Just let it go. Almost as if you’re breathing,” he told her. She nodded, following his instructions right into a coughing fit. He took his cigarette back, as she did her best to muffle her cough with her elbow. Finally able to breathe again, she glared at him with watery eyes, as he laughed at her.

“That is not what you’re doing,” she choked out. One hand one her throat, she gestured with the other for him to pass her his glass of water. He obliged.

“It is what I’m doing. The burning goes away with practice,” he commented. She shrugged, taking tiny breaths to not agitate her throat. He nodded to the glass. “Last night, you didn’t even want to drink from the same bottle.”

“But I did,” she said, taking another drink of his water. He offered her that cigarette again, laughing as she wrinkled her nose, shaking her head quickly. “So if you have cooties, Russell, I’ve already caught them, no turning back now.”

There was a moment of silence between them as they waited for the coffee to finish brewing. Allison picked up the coffee can, reading the back of it. Arvin took the opportunity to look her over, just as he had the previous night. He still wasn’t sure she was actually there, as if any moment someone would tell him this was all some weird dream. 

“You’re really bad at that,” Allison said, crossing her legs. Arvin snapped his eyes back up to her face, choking on his own cigarette smoke. She giggled, offering him his own glass of water.

“Bad at what?” he asked, face hot. He moved to the coffee press, attempting to distract himself from her gaze.

“Discretion,” she laughed, scanning her eyes over him in teasing fashion. He could feel the heat radiating off his face as he finished pouring the coffee. She hopped off the counter and took her cup from him. The smug look on her face made him want nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

The sound of the door opening saved him from having to respond. Lenora made it to the kitchen first. She took one look at his face and immediately broke out into a large grin. Her eyes flickered between the two of them. Elizabeth followed her. He couldn’t read her expression, but it was clear that Allison could. The blonde tensed up, tugging her lip between her teeth. She offered her mother her cup of coffee. Elizabeth took it gratefully. He could hear Emma outside saying something to her brother. 

“How was your morning, Arvin?” Elizabeth asked, sitting down at the small kitchen table. She picked up his pack of cigarettes from the table. “May I?”

He nodded, eyes nervously flicking towards Allison. She took the seat next to her mother. Elizabeth smiled at him and lit the cigarette. She nodded towards the chair across from her.

“It was good, uneventful,” he said, taking the seat. If the nod had been a suggestion, it didn’t feel like one. 

“Uneventful? That’s an interesting adjective,” she stated, eyes moving towards her daughter. Without looking behind her, she asked, “Lenora, darling, are you going to join us?”

Lenora, who was still waiting excitedly by the doorway, made her way to the seat beside Elizabeth. The older woman smiled fondly at her. Allison glanced between her mother and Lenora. Arvin lit another cigarette, doing his best not to focus on the way Elizabeth’s eyes seemed to analyze his every move. 

“I do hope my daughter hasn’t caused you too much trouble. She didn’t wake you up to make her coffee, did she?” she asked. Allison rolled her eyes. She took his coffee, sipping it quietly, before answering for him.

“No, I did not,” she said. Elizabeth eyed the mug in her daughter’s hand, before taking a sip of her own drink. Arvin relaxed a little, happy to have Elizabeth’s gaze on someone else.

“You’re telling me you made this on your own?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at her daughter. Allison took another sip and slid his mug back to him. 

“I did not wake him up. He woke up on his own,” she stated, a biting edge to her tone. “It would’ve been nice if you’d woken me up this morning though.” Arvin swallowed. While he could brawl with the best of them, he had a feeling a Hartford fight wasn’t something wanted to bear witness to. Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, flicking the end of her cigarette casually in the ashtray. The similarities in their expressions struck him. Though neither spoke, clearly they were communicating. He shifted in his seat, looking to Lenora for a way out. She shook her head, eyeing the dueling women warily. Allison stood up quickly, eyes still locked on her mother, before removing herself from the room. Elizabeth, much more controlled and composed, stood up as well, smiling brightly at him and Lenora. 

“Would you be so kind as to let your grandmother know that Allison and I are going for a drive? I’d love to show her around where I grew up,” she said. “Thank you for the coffee, Arvin. It was lovely.”

Arvin exchanged another look with Lenora as Elizabeth left the kitchen. He let out a sigh of relief, glad to not have to watch the Hartford family showdown. Lenora moved on from the matter quicker than he did, nudging his leg with her foot.

“So,” she started, dragging out the vowel sound, “you had some alone time with Allison? How was it? Magical? Alluring? Were there sparks?”

Arvin gave her an incredulous look. Shaking his head, he picked up his coffee and stood up. He intended on finishing his coffee and cigarette on the porch in peace, but Lenora followed him, not taking his silence as an answer.

“Nothing happened,” he told her, taking his usual position against railing. Lenora pouted slightly, shoulders slumped and tried again.

“You’re telling me that you were here all alone with the girl of your dreams,” she began, glaring at Arvin when he cut her off.

“Now that’s bullshit,” he stated more than ready for the conversion to be over.

“And,” she enunciated the word loudly, preventing him from arguing further and continued, “you felt nothing?”

Arvin looked at her for a moment, recalling the feeling Ally’s hand against his chest and her teasing smile. Remembering how she made his face grow hot, his throat become dry, and his heart race. He shook his head again and lied, “Didn’t feel a thing.”


	5. The Boy on the Porch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many of you have read the book, however, I know a lot of writers seem to frame Arvin as a young sex god, but this scene touches on both Ally and Arvin's level of inexperience. If you're curious about the book passage I drew from, I posted it on my tumblr poguesmaybank  
> Also separate note: in the books Lenora wears a bonnet.

Allison’s watch read half past midnight, yet unable to sleep, she found herself sitting alone on the Russell’s porch steps in her pajamas. The night air had a chill she’d not been expecting causing her to shiver whenever the wind blew. Her heartbeat picked up as she heard footsteps on the gravel leading up to the porch, she could barely make out a shadowy figure moving just outside the glow of the porchlight. Just as she was about to make a move for the door, Arvin stepped into view. He took one look at her and without speaking passed her the bottle in his hand. He sat on the step next to her, lighting a cigarette as she took a drink. 

“That’s my shirt,” he muttered, glancing sideways at her. She shrugged, taking another sip. 

“It’s stupid to dirty up another shirt, if I’m just sleeping in this one,” she snapped. He shifted in his seat to look at her. 

“Bad date?” he asked, his tone holding a sarcastic edge. She glared at him taking another large drink from the bottle. He grabbed it from her before she could go for a fourth. “Slow down.”

Allison scoffed, turning in her seat so her back was against the railing, her toes brushing up against his pants. He took a small sip, before setting the bottle down on his far side. He looked more relaxed, almost happy compared to the last thirty-six hours she’d known him. Allison assumed it was due to the bottle he’d taken from her. She nudged him with her foot, pouting slightly, but the look felt hollow. She tilted her head back against the rail.

“More like a bad day,” she muttered. She wrapped her arms around herself as a breeze came through, her shorts and thin shirt offering little protection. Arvin held his cigarette loosely between his lips and shrugged off his jacket. He offered it to her. She hesitated for a second, considering declining, but another gust of wind came through and made the decision for her. Shrugging it on, she was immediately surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and whiskey. She burrowed deeper into the jacket, letting it wrap around her bent knees as well.

“The car ride with your mama?” he asked, but they both knew it wasn’t a question. She nodded, reaching out for the bottle again. He shook his head, but passed it over anyway. 

“The car ride with mama, the fact that I might never see my home again, the fact that Tommy can be such a.. a..,” she told him, taking her drink, attempting to find the right word to describe her boyfriend. 

“An asshole?” he suggested, “I could have told you that.” Allison nudged his thigh roughly with her foot. 

“He’s not! He can be really sweet,” she said, causing Arvin to scoff, “He can! Like, just the other day he brought me flowers for no reason at all.”

“I heard it’s cause he fucked Dorthea and didn’t want you mad when you heard about it,” he shrugged, moving to take another drink. Allison glared and nudged him again, harder this time, causing the liquid to spill on to his shirt. He grabbed the offending foot by her ankle. “What the fuck?”

“He said he didn’t sleep with her,” she muttered, attempting to pull her foot from her grasp. He was stronger than she’d anticipated, holding her in place so he could drink in peace. 

Allison relaxed, realizing quickly she wouldn’t succeed. Her eyes drifting up his arm, the buzz from the whiskey allowing her to appreciate the flexed muscle. Trailing her gaze over the curve of his jaw and the sharpness of his cheekbones. She would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t find him attractive. He let her go and put the bottle down, glancing over at her, a blush raising over his cheeks. He swallowed and looked away, offering her the bottle. She took it, not removing her gaze. Finally, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“So, um how was the ride with your mother,” he asked, eyes flicking briefly to her. She broke her gaze as the wind blew around them. She buried her toes under his leg attempting to block out the cold.

“Enlightening would be one word for it,” she said with a shrug. “My father wasn’t there this morning when they arrived. And he wasn’t there when we got there this afternoon either. Mama doesn’t want to talk to me about things and daddy ain’t around to talk and I just want answers.”

“Did you talk about what we heard?” he asked, taking a drink. She shook her head.

“I’m not about to tell her we eavesdropped, but she did explain that it’ll take time before she and daddy are going to talk. He’ll be staying in his apartment until then,” she told him. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“If he ain’t there, then why are y’all here?” he asked, finishing off his cigarette.

“She doesn’t want to be in the house. It’s one thing when she's picking something up and someone is with her. Alone, though? I bet it feels smothering,” she replied. “I’m just worried we’ll never get to go back. And I’ll be stuck in Coal Creek forever and end up running a church hall and wearing frilly nightgowns-”

Arvin laughed then. A proper laugh with his head thrown back, shoulders shaking. Allison gasped, offended and kicked at him again. He caught her foot, still laughing.

“Sorry,” he managed to gasp out. She reached out to shove his shoulder, but he caught her wrists, unintentionally pulling her towards him in an effort to stop the assault. “Let me.. let me explain.”

“Well? Go on then,” she demanded, eyes boring angrily into his happy face. He straightened up, breath fanning over her face. 

“Right, so I just,” he told her, chuckling lightly, shoulder bumping into her, “I had this image of you in one of the Lenora’s nightgowns. All flowers and frills, maybe even a bonnet.”

One hand releasing her wrist to move over her hair, demonstrating the bonnet. Her jaw dropped slightly, and suddenly she was laughing as well. He joined her, both of them enjoying the image juxtaposed to the image she had created for herself. While the look worked for Lenora, she would look ridiculous.

“That’s terrible!” she exclaimed, leaning against his shoulder to catch her breath.

As she calmed down, she was suddenly very aware of their proximity. His hand on her wrist, his thigh pressed against her own, his breath on her face. She peered up at him. For a moment, she felt frozen when his eyes met hers, the air around her felt thick and her breath caught in her throat. Enveloped in the scent she recognized from the shirt she’d worn to bed: cigarettes, motor oil, and distinctly Arvin. He was close enough to kiss her. Allison felt her face warm at the thought. The moment dissipated as quickly as begun. Arvin cleared his throat and dropped her wrists, face turning a bright red. Allison shifted back to her previous position, grabbing the bottle along the way. She avoided looking at him as she took a drink. 

“So where were you all night?” she asked, desperate to relieve the awkward air surrounding them. “Were you on a date too?”

“No,” he muttered, lighting another cigarette. “Mary Jane Turner, you probably don’t remember her. She’s my girlfriend and she moved out of town a month ago. Well.  _ was  _ my girlfriend, now I suppose.”

“Then what were you doing?” she asked, taking another drink before finding the courage to peek over at him. He was fiddling with his lighter, eyes pointed directly in front of him. 

“My friends and I were out drinking,” he said, shrugging, “Hobart’s grandad got him a new shotgun so we went shooting some cans in the woods behind Farmer Jackson’s place.”

“Do you do that often?” she asked curiously, “Shoot things on someone else’s property?”

“No. I mean, yes, but it’s just Jackson’s farm,” Arvin told her. He glanced in her direction, turning away quickly when he met her gaze. “Erskell took me up there to teach me to shoot. What about you? Your date with Tommy. Lenora said you were at the drive-in.”

Allsion ignored the way he spit out her boyfriend’s name. Remembering the way the date had begun so well and ended so terribly, she wrapped her arms herself. Most of their dates had gone that way as of late. She shrugged, pulling her lip between her teeth, and debated on what to tell him.

“We had dinner at the little diner in town and then went to drive in,” she said. He looked at her, reaching for the bottle.

“And?” he asked. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“And what?” she retorted. 

“That’s all you have to say about your date with that candyass you’re dating?” he replied. She glared at him, grabbing the bottle. Allison put back another drink before she responded.

“The diner was fun. Tommy can be a real gentleman, you know?” she paused, as he scoffed. She rolled her eyes at him, “ _ You asked _ !”

“Fair point,” he relented, taking a large drink from the bottle they shared. “Alright, you and  _ Gentleman Maston _ were eating dinner, and then?”

“And then he paid. And we headed to see the newest picture they got down at the drive-in, Invasion of Astro-Monster,” she muttered, resting her head back against the wood of the railing. “It's supposed to be really good. Tommy got us some drinks and popcorn.”

“What a guy,” Arvin mumbled, sarcastically. Allison nudged him gently with her foot, almost scared to touch him again. 

“Hush,” she scolded, softly, “He’s always lovely at first.”

“At first?” he questioned, handing her back the bottle, careful so that their hands didn't touch. She took a drink, before nodding.

“At first things are good, comfortable, you know? But then he tries and I don’t…”Allison trailed off, finishing the sentence with a shrug. Bringing the bottle back to her lips, she was sure the alcohol was the only reason she was willing to tell him.

“Tries what?” Arvin asked, taking the bottle back. Allison blinked at him in disbelief. His eyebrows furrowed, awaiting an explanation. 

“He  _ tries _ ,” she repeated, tilting her head to emphasize the word. Realization fell across his face, and he doubled over choking on the drink he had just taken. 

“ _ Tries _ . You meant he wants to..” Arvin muttered once he regained his breath, gesturing vaguely in her direction. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking everywhere but her.

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “You never tried with your girlfriend?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I tried, but she didn’t. We didn’t,” Arvin let out an exasperated sigh, giving up and taking another drink. Allison nodded, taking in the deep blush on his face and his inability to look in her direction. She nudged him again, bringing his attention to her.

“It’s okay. I haven’t either,” she told him. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but closed it before speaking. She shrugged, “Tommy wants to clearly, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“So, when Maston tried,” Arvin started, pausing to clear his throat, before fumbling to light a cigarette. His eyes flickered towards her, gauging her reaction, “that’s what ruins your dates?”

“No,” Allison said, shaking her. She looked him over, noting the nervous, almost insecure way he was watching her, gaze fluttering between her and his hands. “Why?”

He hesitated, seeming reluctant to answer her. He gave in with a sigh.

“I..,” he paused and ran a hand over his face, before trying again, “Like I said, with Mary, I tried and I guess I was just thinking-”

“That you ruined your dates?” Allison offered, smiling at him. “That’s sweet.”

“That,” he started to argue, but Allison rolled her eyes, cutting him off.

“Sweet, isn’t a bad thing, Arvin,” she told him, before answering his question, “But I suppose it depends on how big a fit you threw after she said no.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed again.

“The huffing and puffing? The angry underhanded comments? The unnecessary moving of yourself to the other side of the cab? The pouting?” she explained, waiting for him to admit to them. He shook his head.

“Grandma would smack me into next week if she even thought I did something like that,” he told her. Allison just looked at him for a moment, a whole new feeling of sadness coming over her. Arvin raised an eyebrow at her, “What?”

She sighed, looking away from him into the darkness surrounding the porch. “I believe you.” 


	6. The Girl in the Rearview Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I'm sorry it's taken so long to update. I moved house and started a new job.

Arvin leaned back against his car, his morning cigarette between his fingers. He could see Allison and Elizabeth on the porch, in the midst of an animated looking argument. Elizabeth crossed her arms, the look on her face making it clear the argument was over. Allison twirled around and moved angrily towards him. She leaned against the car next to him, fuming, a death glare pointed at her mother.

Arvin looked her over, carefully. The last thing he needed was for her to catch him a third time. The girl beside him was certainly Allison Hartford, not the unguarded Ally he’d spent the last few nights getting to know. Allison was perfectly crafted from her head to her toes. Nothing about her belonged here. She contrasted violently with the rundown nature of his old car and their tiny house. Allison sighed as Elizabeth disappeared into the house, and he turned his head just before she could catch him looking.

“I need you to drop me off at the corner by Mrs. M’s shop,” she told him. He glanced at her as Lenora finally exited the house. Arvin dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it with his foot. 

“Why?” he asked, opening the driver’s side door and sliding into the car. He watched in the rearview mirror as Allison climbed into the backseat.

“I just think it’ll be better if I walked from there,” she said, simply. She met his eyes briefly in the mirror before looking away.

“It's six blocks from the fucking school,” he told her, as Lenora entered the passenger side. 

“I know,” Allison said. Arvin pulled out of the drive and onto the road. His eyes flickered between Allison in the rearview mirror and the road.

“Then why the hell would I leave you there?” he demanded. Allison sighed, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Can you just do it?” she asked, exasperated, starting at the back of the seat. He almost questioned her again, but her face told him everything he needed to know. She didn't want to be seen with them, arriving in his car, to be associated with  _ him _ . 

Arvin’s jaw clenched and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He kept his eyes focused forward. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lenora’s eyes on him as he drove, flickering her attention between him and Allison. No one spoke the whole way to the corner, the tenison in the car was so thick he’s sure they would’ve choked on it had they tried. Arvin hit the break hard, stopping fast enough that their safety belts pulled. 

“Arvin,” Allison said softly, but he didn’t acknowledge her, shrugging off the hand that touched his shoulder. He still didn’t look as she climbed out.

“See you after school!” Lenora called. Arvin took off before Allison had the opportunity to respond. He chanced a glance in the rearview to see her standing on the corner, a shocked and angry look on her face. Arvin couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction that washed over him. “Arvin! That wasn’t nice.”

“Who fucking cares, Lenora?” he asked, glancing over at the girl next to him. “If she’s too stuck up to be seen with us. That's her own damn problem”

“Arvin!” Lenora exclaimed. She was upset now. “It's not about us!”

“How the hell would you know?” he snapped. 

“Because she told me!” Lenora said. Arvin stopped at a stop sign and looked over at Lenora. 

“She told you?” he asked, disbelief clear on his face. Lenora nodded. A car behind him honked. He pressed the gas. 

“Yeah, last night before bed when she was braiding my hair for me! That’s why it's so wavy today,” Lenora told him, tugging on a strand of her hair. “We’re friends like I said we’d be.”

“It looks nice, Lenora” he told her, though he couldn’t see any difference between today and the way it looked any other day. Regardless, the comment made Lenora smile. He pulled into his parking spot and lit a cigarette, letting the car idle. “What did she say?”

“That she’s scared,” Lenora said, looking at her hair in the passenger side mirror. Arvin scoffed.

“To be seen with us? Worried it’ll bring down her social status,” he muttered. Lenora shoved his shoulder lightly.

“She’s scared about people finding out about Joseph and Hannah,” she said, her tone teetering the line between harsh and upset. Arvin looked at her, eyebrows raised, eyes widening slightly. 

“She told you about that?” he asked. It hadn’t occurred to him that Allison had been connecting to anyone else in the house. Though it made sense that they would talk, she and Lenora were sharing a tiny room. Plus, Lenora was determined to make friends with the blonde and she was nothing if not persistent. 

“She already has so much change happening in her home life. She may act as if nothing phases her, but I doubt she could take the embarrassment of people at school finding out. She cares what people think, Arvin,” Lenora said, eyes glancing behind them as more students began to pull into the parking lot. “Arriving with us would cause people to ask questions and I don’t think she's ready to answer them.”

“Yeah,” Arvin said, thinking back to the scared and crying girl from the hallway. Arvin leaned back in his seat and ran a hand over his face. Lightly a cigarette, he turned back to Lenora. “Did she say anything else?”

“Like what?” Lenora asked. She shifted suddenly, grinning widely at him, a teasing tone in her voice, “Like about you?”

“That ain’t what I said,” he told her.

“Oh, so you don’t want to know what she said about you?” Lenora said. She turned to open her door, hesitating to give him time to stop her. 

He almost let her leave, knowing calling her back would vindicate any suspicions Lenora had about his feelings for the pretty blonde. Though he wasn’t even sure what those feelings were.

“Lenora, wait,” he said. The brunette rested back in her seat, a triumphant grin on her face. 

“You want to know if she likes you or not?” she asked, already buzzing with excitement.

Arvin hesitated, considering just letting her go to class. But he wanted, no he  _ needed  _ to know, if what he’d been feeling that past few days was warranted. Or if every little touch and flirtation that made his pulse race was all in his head. His face flushed as he swallowed his pride and nodded. Lenora hugged him, laughing excitedly. 

“I think so. She says you're sweet and she's still sleeping in your shirt. Plus she was blushing when I brought up the fact that she was gone when I woke up Saturday night and you weren't on the couch. And when I asked how your jacket got to my room,” Lenora rambled, “You two are going to be adorable.” 

“Calm down,” he told her but he couldn’t help the small smile on his face. “Ain’t nothing changed. She’s still her. And she's got a boyfriend and trust fund and probably a ticket out of here in a few years. And I’m still me. Don’t look at me like that, Lenora. We both know I’ll be doing road work and maybe mine work in Coal Creek the rest of my life.”

“Arvin,” Lenora mumbled her excitement dissipating, “you're still upset about Mary leaving. I know you were sad about it.”

He ran his hand across his face, about to tell her there's no point dwelling on that, when a couple of Maston’s dumbass friends pulled up a few cars behind him. They were already rowdy when they exited the vehicle. He and Lenora got out of the car quickly. He wanted to get Lenora in the building before they saw them. But it was too late. They were making a beeline towards them. One of them was running their mouth long before they reached them. Arvin prepared him for the suspension that would come from this fight and he could hear Lenora praying.

“Don’t you idiots have anything better to do?” Allison’s voice, harsh and judgment, came from behind them. Arvin looked behind him to see her approaching, but she didn’t even glance in their direction as she passed the group.

“The fuck is it to you?” one of them had the nerve to ask. Allison whirled around and Arvin felt grateful that those eyes weren’t directed at him. She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“I’m sorry, who are you? You don’t have to answer. I’m sure you’re irrelevant,” she said, before pointing vaguely at the group. Arvin nudged Lenora, making her move towards the door. He could hear Allison, glancing back towards Allison as they went. “But you all are  _ supposed _ to be starting in the game on Friday, so the last thing the team needs is for you all to be suspended. If you want to throw away the best shot we have at qualifying for state, then by all means.”

Allison sidestepped dramatically, gesturing widely towards him and Lenora. None of them moved. 

Arvin didn’t see her again until lunch, sitting with her group of friends. Maston had his arms wrapped around her and she laughed loudly at something he’d said. Arvin’s chest ached, maybe Lenora was wrong and it was all in his head. 


End file.
